It's healthy to talk. Or so men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the common male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they inquired how X is coping with his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose personal friendships often center on an deep and encyclopaedic understanding of each other's private feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping meaningful conversation—can look oddly empty and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to see a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates repeatedly outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, seem chronically frustrated for unarticulated reasons. Bottling everything up benefits nobody.
Reconsidering the Merit of Silent Friendship
However, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, particularly for men raised in an era of the emotional restraint, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in comfortable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet form of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks significance. Maybe we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever pursuit allows them to spend time in the presence of others who also appreciate less chatter.
Past Words: A Tacit Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that showing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
From a woman's perspective, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be astonishingly forthright. A lack of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Additionally, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express anger, hope, discontent, or satisfaction for hours.
The most notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not the ideal way of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, each satisfying the psychological needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
